


Work

by Lady_Blackwater



Series: Oakland's Very Own [4]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Character(s), Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, Erik Killmonger Has Feelings, Erik Killmonger Redemption, F/M, Flirting, Gentle Kissing, Intimacy, Literal Sleeping Together, Love at First Sight, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Erik Killmonger, Pre-Relationship, Romantic Friendship, Smitten Erik Killmonger, Soft Erik Killmonger, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-08 02:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19097851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackwater/pseuds/Lady_Blackwater
Summary: Erik was minding his business when he first saw Sienna June of 2016.





	Work

**Author's Note:**

> OC is black and plus sized. Always. Please enjoy!
> 
> I ❤ HalcyonSeasons.

Erik was minding his business when he first saw Sienna June of 2016.

It was a day like any other in Oakland, and he was at the Outreach Center, coaching a scrimmage game for the youth basketball team. His version of coaching was crossing up middle schoolers and telling them to “step they game up” whenever they didn’t make a basket. It wasn’t effective in the least bit, but it kept the kids and Erik occupied. Most of them were just happy to have something to do and somewhere to go.

It was when they were taking a water break on the court when a white Range Rover pulled into the parking lot, blasting pop music that was impossible to ignore. Erik merely glanced in mild annoyance towards the parking lot at the cacophony of noises and continued gulping down the ice cold water in his reusable water bottle. He’s pretty much used to this neighborhood being loud, so he ignored it.

“Mr. Stevens, you know the only reason you be winning is because you have an unfair height advantage, right?” Brandon, a heavy-set eleven-year-old whined with his arms crossed over his chest. “It don’t make no sense. You really out here breaking our ankles like you tryna get a scholarship.”

“Unfair height advantage and he been to jail,” Jamari—a scrawny, tall thirteen-year-old—chimed in and took a sip of her Gatorade. “You know niggas who been to jail hoop like they freedom depends on it.”

Erik couldn’t help but laugh. It was refreshing to see that the youth of today weren’t as angry as he was.

 “I’mma teach yo’ lil’ badasses to respect your elders,” Erik joked and capped his bottle. “Nobody likes a sore loser.”

 “Sore loser?” Dijah, another girl, exclaimed, hand on her hip and looking at him like he was actually crazy. “Nigga, we twelve!”

Erik started off listening to them complain, expression bored and mildly entertained that they were so annoyed. He rolled his eyes at the complaining and upon letting his gaze wander, he saw _her_.

 _Her_ being the absolute dime who jumped out of the white Range Rover and made her way over to the basketball court. Her gait was confident and sure with her head held high and attitude in every sway of her wide hips.

 Erik squinted and the closer she got, the more intrigued he was.

She was tall, made of mostly leg, muscled calves, and thick thighs that brushed together with each step she took. Baby pink velvet shorts hugged her hips and thighs like a second skin so much so that she had to adjust them when they rode up. Her figure was pear-shaped with every edge of her frame rounded and soft-looking from the excess weight she carried so effortlessly around her waist, arms, and stomach. Her skin was even and brown, and it glowed with the sheen of sweat and glittery body lotion under the Californian sun.

“Yo,” Erik muttered to himself. He stared hard as hell, barely paying attention to much of anything else going on around her as she got closer and closer. Just when Erik was sure she was going to approach him directly, CJ, an eleven-year-old STEM student, broke off from the group and rushed across the basketball court to greet her.

Erik watched the interaction closely.

“Sisi!” the boy exclaimed excitedly and flung his arms around her middle in a familial hug. “What are you doing here?!”

“I’m here for you, lil’ boy,” she told him, running very long, red, jewel-encrusted coffin nails through the young boy’s dark coiled hair. “Go get your stuff. We going for ice cream.” Her voice was on the deeper side, almost husky and a little raspy, yet somehow demanding.

“Ooh, bet!” CJ cheered and ran towards the building for his belongings.

Upon closer examination, Erik took in her plump and pouty lips shiny with clear lip gloss, her freshly done thigh-length box braids being framed by intricately laid baby hairs, and dark brown eyes wide and darling like a fawn’s. Her nose was wide and undefined, the apples of her cheeks were prominent and rounded, her chin jutted out with a cleft, and there was no reason as to why someone’s ears should be _that cute._

It fucked with Erik to find something so weird _alluring_.

]“Um, hello! Mr. Stevens?” Jamari yelled, snapped her fingers in her face, gaining his attention. “We playin’ or nah?”

He shot her a look and waved them off. “Uh, y’all go run some plays,” he instructed and tossed the basketball. The kids scattered, leaving him to just stand and inspect this mystery woman.

She stood there on the side of the court patiently waiting for CJ with her arms crossed, rocking from foot to foot, and Erik couldn’t tear his eyes away for anything. The longer he looked, the more minute details he noticed.

Said cute ears were pierced, two in the lobe, a conch through the middle, and a diamond tragus. Blooming gradient scale pompom chrysanthemum flowers adorned her forearm in an extensive tattoo. She wore a charm anklet and recently released baby pink Fenty fur slides. Her white halter top accentuated just how big her breasts were. 

It didn’t make any sense as to why she was this fine, but here she was, just a few feet away looking like a whole snack.

For the first time in a long time, Erik couldn’t speak. Any other time he would’ve already approached her, but the effortlessness of her beauty caught him off guard. He was too much of a real nigga to admit he didn’t know how to approach her, so he just continued to watch her until CJ exited the building with his backpack and lunch bag. 

 _She_ wrapped an arm around CJ’s skinny shoulders and guided them towards the Range Rover. Just as they were about to clear the basketball court, CJ turned to wave Erik’s way. “Bye, Mr. Stevens!” he yelled, and the woman glanced over her shoulders in that direction. Erik, too dumbstruck to say anything, just waved back, squinting to see the expression on the woman’s face. If anything, she looked as though she didn’t even notice Erik standing there to begin with.

Like an idiot, Erik watched the Range Rover pull out of the parking lot and down the road, pop music disturbing all the peace.

As quickly as she was there, she was gone. She was right there, looking like God made her from angel dust…

And he didn’t say _anything_.

“What the hell,” he murmured to himself.

 

Erik _almost_ forgot about her.  

It lasted until he passed by the computer lab the following afternoon and saw CJ doing his homework at a desk by himself. When Erik had first met the kid, he’d felt bad that he didn’t have a lot of friends until learning he preferred to be alone most of the time. He only ever talked to one or two other kids at the Center or Erik, and as long as no one bothered him about it, Erik let him be.

Erik slid into the lab, dodging and walking around the loud sea of kids finishing end of the school year final projects and goofing around and headed straight for CJ.

“Was wondering why you wasn’t on the court,” Erik started, grabbing an empty chair from a nearby desk, flipping it and sitting in it backwards with his chin resting on his fists. “You in here being a nerd.”

CJ glanced up with a shy smile and nodded to the Algebra textbook and notebook before him. “Brain over brawn, Mr. Stevens.”

“You do know I graduated college at nineteen, right?”

CJ erased something in his notebook and smirked. “And I’m the nerd,” he scoffed, making Erik chuckle a little.

“Yeah, a’ight, touché.” He leaned forward. “A'ight, I got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who was the shorty that picked you up yesterday?” he asked. CJ’s subtle side eye made him feel weird.

“Sisi,” he answered. “She my godmom.”

“Sisi,” Erik repeated. “Okay.”

“Why?”

Erik shrugged nonchalantly. “Just wondering why I ain’t never seen her around.”

“She not from here.”

“Where she from?”

“Los Angeles.”

Erik scrunched his face up. “Why she all the way in Oakland then?”

CJ sucked his teeth. “Damn, you want her social security number too, nosey?”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Boy, stop being smart and answer the question.”

“She visiting my mom and some friends of theirs that go to Berkeley,” he told the grown man and poked him in the shoulder with the eraser end of his pencil. “Why?” he asked again.

“Just curious.”

CJ squinted his eyes at Erik, reading his body language with a knowing smirk. “ _Curious_ ,” he repeated. “You try’na holla at her, aren’t you?”

Erik made a face to say _really, lil’ nigga?_ “A’ight, look, I just think she fly, that’s it.”

“Ya know, she’s picking me up again today, Mr. Stevens. You can be _curious_ when she gets here.”

So, he waited patiently, coaching another game of basketball from the sidelines this time so to catch when the Range Rover pulled up. If the kids noticed he was distracted, they didn’t say anything about it.

Just as it had yesterday, the vehicle made its loud way to a parking spot, grabbing almost everyone’s attention until it cut off. Sisi hopped out the driver’s side and began that confident walk to the basketball court, scanning the area for her godson. She had on jeans with her furry slides today.

Upon not seeing him, she entered the building. In the time she was gone, Erik instructed the kids to do some defense practices and tried his damnedest to stop checking for the door. Ultimately, he failed and not even the keloids that scattered along his arms stopped the goosebumps he felt when she and CJ exited the building.

Her arms was around his shoulder again, and they were deep in conversation when CJ interrupted her to turn and wave to Erik just as he had yesterday.

“Bye, Mr. Stevens!” he said, but this time he was giving Erik a look that invited him over despite saying goodbye. Erik, unsure of what to do or say, he waved back and this time, nigga-nodded directly at Sisi.

She didn’t return the gesture and instead continued her way to her Range Rover without so much as sparing another glance his way. 

It was CJ’s turn to regard Erik with a _really, big nigga?_ glare behind her back, and honestly, Erik couldn’t blame him.

 

“She only gonna be in town for a few more days,” CJ told Erik the next day when the bus dropped him and the other kids off at the Outreach Center.

Erik took that for what it was.

 

That afternoon, during a water break, Sisi pulled up in her Range Rover with the music blasting just as she had for the past two days. This time, she wasn’t alone.

Erik recognized the dark skin shorty who accompanied her as Willow, a college girl one of his homeboys had been talking to. In the times Erik had met her, she was cool and kept things lowkey.

The women walked with their arms linked, laughing aloud and doing the most as they approached the basketball court. It wasn’t until CJ broke away from the huddle of tired children to embrace her did he put two and two together.

Willow was his mother. 

Erik grinned. This just got a whole lot easier.

CJ ran inside to get his belongings with Sisi following close behind him. Willow met his gaze and took a few steps towards him.

“Wassup, E?” she greeted with a dap.

“None much,” he answered. “You ain’t tell me CJ was yours.”

“Yeah, he look like his busted-ass daddy, that’s why.” Willow nudged his side with her elbow. “You coming out with us tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Where?”

“Thought JJ told you about going down to the Carnival,” she said and cocked her head sideways. “Might hit up a kickback or some, too. Niggas just wanna get out the hot-ass house."

JJ was a goofy childhood friend of Erik’s who played too much and took nothing seriously, so it made sense as to why he forgot to mention this. Either that or Erik wasn’t paying attention.

“Who all going?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Willow began naming off people, some Erik knew and others Erik didn’t. He nodded, half interested and considering for only a second until he mentally decided it was best to stay in. Erik didn’t socialize much with anyone outside of his family or few friends.

“You ready to go?” Willow asked CJ, slinging his backpack over her shoulder when the pre-teen and his godmom exited the building. She lingered against the chain link fence separating the court from the parking lot, waiting for her peoples and staring down at the concrete.

CJ nodded excitedly and glanced at Erik. “Bye, Mr. Stevens!”

“Bye, lil’ man,” Erik waved at the two of them with one hand on his hip. “See you Monday.”

Willow turned on her heels in an instant to face him again. “Wait, so you coming with us or nah?”

“No” lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped himself when his eyes wandered past Willow and CJ to Sisi paying them no attention as she pouted at the ground.

“She gon’ be there?” He gestured with a subtle nod to Sisi. Willow followed his gaze and looked back at him with a giddy grin and a mischievous glint in her brown eyes.

“You feeling my homegirl?”

“Mama, you should’ve seen him yesterday. Mad thirsty asking hella questions about her and—”

Erik muffled CJ’s motormouth with a swift hand and pulled the boy into a headlock. “Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Just try’na see wassup.”

Willow laughed and nodded. “Yeah, she gon’ be there.”

“Bet.”

“Yeah, a’ight, bet,” she repeated in a poor imitation of his deep voice. “Have your friend text you,” she said, referring to JJ. “See ya, E.”

“Bye, Will,” he said, releasing CJ.

The three of them made their way to the Range Rover with CJ running in front of the cackling women. For a split second, Sisi glanced back at the man on the court before turning around and listening to whatever Willow was putting in her ear.

He took that for whatever it was.

 

Erik “Killmonger” Stevens was never known to be pressed over _anything_ , let alone a female. He couldn’t understand why he found himself giddy and fidgety about going out with these people knowing Sisi would be there. He didn’t know her, and yet here he was, stressing like he did.

 Of course, he’d never admit that to himself.

He was due for a haircut, so he spent his Saturday morning at the barbershop getting his hairline lined up and his dreads retwisted. Around noon, JJ texted him the details of the midnight pool party at one of his plug’s houses and since he had time, he cleaned his apartment and then settled on the couch, phone in hand. With Instagram open, he searched through JJ’s followers to see if he recognized any of them. His friend didn’t post Willow, so it was a hunt finding _her_ page then searching through _her_ followers. He’d come across a few girls who looked similar to the one he was looking for with their pages public, but they weren’t it.

His thumb scrolled and cramped after about twenty minutes and just when he was ready to give up, he came across a private account with a selfie of who could potentially be Sisi as the profile picture. He’ll admit he looked ridiculous squinting to see if she was who she was in that tiny circle.

 _Sienna Vermillion_ was the display name with a generic Maya Angelou quote as the bio, over a few thousand followers while she barely followed any, and less than one hundred posts. Intrigued, he requested to follow her and tossed his phone to the side before he could waste more time looking up her entire life.

 

 

Erik was washed, groomed, and dressed in his best jeans, t-shirt, and denim jacket combo by the time midnight rolled around. He chose to drive the Audi tonight to keep things low key. The party was about twenty minutes away near Lake Merritt, which meant he’d at least have something to do if he got bored. The neighborhood was usually quiet, but the house was easy to find with all the cars and various party goers littering the neighborhood and beyond. Erik parked further away and took his time approaching the gigantic house that seemed to vibrate with how loud the music was.

The fake-out bouncer patted Erik down and allowed him through the threshold without issue. He passed all the busyness of the front and living room, surveying the crowd of marijuana smoke and bumping bodies filtering through the air for a familiar face. Numerous nameless people approach him and said hello, most likely to get something out of him, but he ignored most of them as politely as he could. Somewhere on his way to the backyard, a drink in a red SOLO cup was put in his hand and he downed the Hennessy like it was water.

Like any pool party with black people, no one was actually in the pool and instead occupied the surrounding lawn and patio as though said pool was simply a center piece. The music from inside penetrated to the outside, and the crowd was just as thick. The waft of cannabis and the general essence of active human beings filled the air—Erik didn’t really like parties for these reasons alone.

“Yo, E!” JJ, his homeboy, called from across the pool and waved him over to a large party canopy where JJ and some of their other mutual friends lazy about with blunts, drinks, and plates of food.

Erik steered clear of the empty pool and greeted his friends with daps and nigga-nods to those he didn’t recognize. There was no sign of Willow or Sisi in the various groups of girls around the canopy, so to distract himself from feeling like a weirdo looking for either of them, he got himself another drink.

Despite his annoyance about being in public for so long, Erik was relaxing and only interacted when he was engaged. Forty-five minutes had gone by since he arrived, and not only was he bored, but he felt his social battery dying out even though he’d only said a total of ten words since he arrived. There was no reason for his big grown, damn near twenty-seven-year-old ass to be at some random house party, even if it was to see about some shorty who clearly wasn’t interested. In the middle of his lonesome, he checked Instagram to see if she’d accepted his follow request. She hadn’t and that seemed to be his last straw.

He didn’t even have the energy to call up one of his jump-offs for some nightcap entertainment, that was how over everything he was. Erik didn’t care for any of everything going on, which was a shame because he looked good and the night was still young.

As quietly as he came, he left the canopy after thanking his friend and the host. He kept his head down to avoid making eye contact with anyone as he pushed his way to the front door through a mist of people and smoke.

It was turning out to be a blunt and buffalo wings type of night.

The path to the door was blocked by a sea of unrelenting partygoers who were either too drunk or too high to care that the nigga that went by Killmonger was trying his hardest to leave without getting hostile.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, and swerved to see if he could exit through the backyard. He muscled his way through the stubbornness of the crowd and ended up right where he started. 

“Fuck,” he said again and did his best to maneuver out of a group of people’s way as they carelessly enter the house. His bright brown eyes rolled back in agitation.

This was the last time he ever went out to any party. _Ever_.

Erik stood by, awaiting an opening to leave as the crowd rocked and swayed in unison to the blaring hip-hop music infiltrating the neighborhood. If he knew this was going to happen, he would’ve brought his pistol and blasted one off in the air to empty the function out. Yeah, T’Challa would go off about the kind of behavior the director of the Wakandan Outreach Center should exhibit, but the rant would be worth it if he could just find a way to get out of here.

Erik leaned against the railing of the patio deck, intently watching through the glass of the sliding door for an open and clear pathway to the front door. He was too pressed and distracted with escaping that he almost didn’t notice the very lonely, very mean-looking, and very fine cherry red blur of a woman posted up on the wall.

He straightened up and squinted harder.

Clad in a red lace crop top and skirt two-piece that expose every last one of her curves, platform sandals, and large silver hoop earrings stood Sisi. She looked just as annoyed as Erik felt. The longer he stared at her the more he admired about her ensemble— in the handful of times he’s seen her, he’s impressed by her style. Her outfit popped a special kind of way against the red undertones of her brown skin.

Erik watched her for another few minutes and decided maybe he didn’t have to leave _just yet._

He entered the house and nonchalantly found a comfortable spot on the same wall as her, every so often scooting closer to her inch by inch. She hadn’t looked up from her nails or the floor since Erik spotted her which created the prime opportunity for him to just examine her closer than he had previous times.

She was even more beautiful up close, and it didn’t make any sense as to why he just _couldn’t_ tear his eyes away. He’d come across plenty of beautiful women before from different ends of the earth, so why this particular one had him second guessing himself and his demeanor didn't make sense. He wasn’t ashamed of staring, but the way she was just standing there, effortlessly being the baddest bitch at the party without even making herself known made something in his stomach jump.

He was too much of a real nigga for butterflies.

It would be corny to say he’s never felt like this because he had, but those feelings ended in one night stands and nothing more. Erik wasn’t one for relationships and to be honest, he had never been in a genuine one that was worth keeping.

There was Lynda but…

Erik shuddered. _Poor Lynda._

Wait—why was he thinking about relationships? How’d he get there?

The pressure of his stare must have bored through the side of her head because she swiftly looked up at him, gave him a neutral faced once over and went back to glaring at the floor with her plum colored shiny lips pouted.

That was a first.

He cocked an eyebrow and leaned closer down to her so to be heard over the music.

“You not gon’ say hi?”

From where he stood above her, he could tell her eyes were probably rolling but he maintained his amused grin.

Sisi glanced back up at with a small, forced smile and mouthed a “hello” so gentle, he definitely didn’t hear it above the music.

They stood there with no other words exchanged for another few minutes before Erik got brave again.

“You don’t recognize me?”

She didn’t turn to look at him this time when she answered. “You JJ’s friend.”

Erik’s gaze scaled the length of her body, desire bursting like a kaleidoscope in his irises the longer she ignored him. Any other time he would get the message and fuck off because he’s not the type of nigga to linger somewhere and waste his time (especially with a female), but shorty brought out the challenge in him.

Maybe it was the odd way she oozed confidence against the wall even with her eyes to the ground or the slight suggestion in her body language that she wishes a nigga or bitch would.

His eye landed back at the side of her face and all he could think was _fuck it_ before opening his big, rude-ass mouth.

“That’s probably why you ain’t got no boyfriend,” he said and smirked down at the abashed expression on her face when she shot daggers sideways at him.

“Excuse me?” Her hand found a spot on her hip.

“You heard me, thickums,” Erik chuckled and relinquished in the first full look at her face at this angle. “You shy as hell and that’s why you ain’t got no boyfriend.”

Sisi’s lip curled up in disgust as she shook her head and faced front again.  “Whatever, nigga.”

“Either you shy or you just mean,” he went on. “By the way you was ignoring a nigga every time you came up to my job, I’d say mean. But judging by the way you hugging this wall, I’d say shy. Which is it?”

At first, she didn’t respond and let his question hang in the air. She opened her mouth once as if to answer then closed it into a frown. 

“I don’t know,” she said, and there was an edge of sincerity in her tone.

Erik nodded. “That’s a’ight. I ain’t been with too many shy girls, but I like mean.”

“I bet you do.”

The frown didn’t disappear from her face like he hoped it would. He sighed and put an inch of space between them so to better look down at her.

“A’ight, what’s wrong?”

She blinked up at him like he was crazy for asking then shrugged. “I’m good.”

“You just be looking like someone pissed in your cereal this morning ‘cus you good?”

Sisi squinted up at him. “I mean, I’m annoyed, yeah,” she admitted and instead of mean mugging him further, her features softened and she actually appeared sad rather than annoyed.

“If you want me out your face, you seem like the kinda chick who ain’t gotta problem telling me to leave you alone,” Erik said. Judging by the way she quirked her head to the side in agreement, he was right.

Sisi exhaled and took a side step closer to him so she could hear him better. “I don’t really go to parties. Willow dumbass told me we were going to the Carnival, but last minute change of plans and we ended up at this random nigga house.”

“Yeah, I don’t really do parties like that either,” he told her. “Thought I’d get out tonight just ‘cus and I been wanting to go home the whole time.”

Sisi played with the ends of one of her long braids nervously. “I don’t wanna be, like, in my late twenties doing this shit and going to clubs. Shit’s lame. How you over twenty-five going to parties? Bro, go start a family,” she complained with an eye roll, and Erik laughed harder than he meant to.

“What?” she asked, but he shook his head.

“Nothing—you just funny.”

She seemed to beam at that and offered a hand out to him. “Sienna,” she introduced herself.

Erik didn’t waste time to take her hand in his and hold it so to massage her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. Sienna looked down their connected hands, awestruck at how bold he was, how surprisingly his hands were, and how much she liked how they looked against each other.

“N’Jadaka,” he told her, unsure of why he felt compelled to tell this stranger his birth name. “But Erik is cool too.”

“I figured,” she said and when his stare got too intense, she flushed and looked back at their hands. She doesn’t know why she was letting this man hold her hand, but she didn’t want him to let it go either. “I know about you, kinda.”

“Kinda,” he repeated, giving a light tug to her hand to bring her closer. “What do you know?”

She didn’t meet his eyes out of shyness. “I’m not from here, but my godson talk about you all the time.”

“CJ a good kid. Smart-ass mouth, but a good kid nonetheless.”

Sienna snickered. “He’d say the same about you.”

Erik’s hand slid out of Sienna’s and traveled its way to her elbow. “What about you? What you say about me?”

The new intimacy made her stomach jump. This nigga was fine, and he talked like he knew he was fine, and it annoyed Sienna as much as it aroused her.

“I don’t know you like that to say.”

“You could.”

Sienna didn’t have anything prepared to say after that and thankfully the song change created a distraction that lifted the mood just a little. They weren’t sure when they’d gotten so close or how his other hand ended up in hers, but unless she was going to say something, he was going to keep them right there.

“You tryna dance?” he asked, surprising her.

Sienna had a preconceived image of what Erik “Killmonger” Stevens was like and dancing, let alone asking to dance, didn’t fit said image.

Even though he’d asked and she really liked this song, there was a twinge of apprehension on her face as though she were waiting for him to say he was joking. She waited for the punchline, but Erik took that chance to close any remaining space between them.

_Work, work, work, work, work work… He said me haffi work, work, work, work, work, work… He see me do mi dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt… so me put in work, work, work, work, work, work… When you ah guh learn, learn, learn, learn, learn learn... Meh nuh cyar if him hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurting..._

His hands trailed from her elbows to her hips slow enough for her to stop him if she wanted to. When they settled comfortably around her waist, Erik pulled her inward and then back to start momentum in her hips. She caught his drift and began tentatively rocking herself against the hard front of his torso. He dipped his head low to put his lips at her ear.

“You got no idea how good you look right now,” he whispered. The scent of her perfume creeped into his nostrils and he groaned. Sienna rocked her hips in a full circle, chasing the movement of his body while his hands stay planted around her waist.

“I do,” she whispered back and spun herself around to have her back pressed against against his front. The move momentarily caught him off guard, but he smiled and met her stroke for stroke as she wined and grind her lower body against his. On instinct, his arms crept around her torso to hold her as close as humanly possible. She moved her braids to one side of her head so to expose her neck, opening up a space where he could dip his face as though he’d always belonged there.

_You took my heart and my keys and my patience...You took my heart off my sleeve a decoration… you mistaken my love I brought for you for foundation… All that I wanted from you was to gimme something that I never had, something that you've never seen, something that you've never been… But I wake up and act like nothing’s wrong..._

She fit just right against him, and the warm weight against his front simulated what he predicted a body pillow would feel like. Erik squeezed around her, meeting her hips the same way she was meeting his. Not so subtly, his dick pressed against the muscle of her gyrating ass, but that only encouraged her to dutty wine harder against his lap. Her shoes gave her more height, putting her neck in the perfect place for him to mumble the lyrics of the song into her dewy flesh.

Sienna was well aware of this man’s past and just how dangerous he is, but somehow that made her feel safer in his large and strong arms. They didn’t know each other, yet neither of them felt the want to be anywhere else but against each other. Any other time this song came on, Sienna would be going crazy with bending over to let her ass shake in tandem to the low tempo beat with her tongue out or squatting low, hands braced on her knees while she made her hips pop and lock to each hit of the bass.

But right now, all she wanted to do was rock against Erik.

Even though she was humming while every other female in the spot sang their lungs out, Erik heard and nudged her side.

“This yo’ part, huh?” he groaned into her ear.

“How you tell?” One of her eyebrows flew up.

“Y’all girls love this part. Sing that shit,” he encouraged and began to hum along. Sienna giggled at how Erik’s beard tickled against her nape. Letting her initial apprehension go, she lifted her hands in the air and joined in on singing as loudly as her voice box allowed.

_Don’t leave me stuck here in the streets oh oh… If I get another chance to I will never, no never neglect you...I mean who am I to hold your past against you? I just hope that it gets to you… I hope that you see this through… I hope that you see this true.. What can I say?... Please recognize I’m trying, baby…_

Erik dared to peck the curve of her neck, and when she distractedly sang onto the last verse of the song without complaint, he did it again. His lips felt like they belonged there, so she lifted her hand to caress and then pressed the side of his face to hers.

“You smell good,” he told her, sharply inhaling then kissing her jaw with his mouth slightly parted. “I’mma eat yo lil’ cute ass up.”

She didn’t strike him as the type to let random niggas just kiss and touch on her regularly, but right now she was in an element he wasn’t going to refuse. He had been wanting this for the last two days, and he wasn’t going to ruin it by asking questions and wondering too hard.

She giggled again, toying with the diamond stud adorning his earlobe. “You stupid,” she said and intertwined their hands met around her waist.

_Long distance, I need you… When I see potential I just gotta see it through…If you had a twin I would still choose you… I don't wanna rush into it, if it's too soon…_

_“But I know you need to get done, done, done, done if you come over,”_ they sang together without meaning to and laugh together at nothing in particular.

_Sorry if I’m way less friendly... I got niggas tryna end me… Oh, yeah, I spilled all my emotions tonight, I’m sorry… Rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling… How many more shots until you’re rolling?... We just need a face to face… You could pick the time and a place... You spent some time away… Now you need to forward..._

Sienna exhaled lowly at how supple his lips were behind her ear. An arch began to form of her spine just as the song ended and transitioned into the next, leaving Erik nearly speechless.

“Fuck,” he moaned, watching Sienna make work of her hips to the beat of the next song. She smirked to herself when she felt the desired results through his jeans and used the hand encasing his face to force his eyes her way.

Their faces were mere centimeters apart, and in that moment, she decided he was taking him back to Willow’s apartment to ride his face. A one night stand with some fine-ass Oakland nigga couldn’t hurt, especially if she didn’t really have to see him after tonight.

Erik read all of this in her sultry stare and just as he was about to make a lewd comment, his focus diverted behind her to an arising altercation in the middle of the living room.

From what he could tell, it was two brolic niggas tussling rough enough to create a wave of people falling, screaming, and running out of the way of the scrap. With that, the loud unmistakable _pop!_ of a gun disturbed the whole vibe of the party and within seconds, the sea of people that once occupied the dance floor stampede to the exit in alarm.

Like any sensible nigga, once Erik saw _one_ nigga running, it meant _they_ all should start running. Sienna got the hint too and made a poor attempt to run for the exit in the same way as everyone else, but Erik intertwined their hands in a vice grip and elbowed as hard as he could, uncaring of who he hit, between scrambling guests towards the dispersing backyard. As potentially serious as the scene could be, there was something particularly hilarious about watching niggas run around without a destination in sight.

“Yo!” Sienna yelled, dodging people as she broke out into a sprint through the gate of the backyard. Erik met her pace and had to resist laughing out loud when she tripped over her sandal and tumbled to the concrete sidewalk.  

“Shit!” she groaned upon impact, but popped up as if nothing happened, running with one shoe intact and a bruised shin right behind Erik all the way down the block with a slew of other party guests who weren’t in the mood to get shot.

They made it about ten houses down before Sienna’s legs grew tired and she launched herself tiredly into someone lawn to catch her breath. Erik came to an abrupt stop, fell in the grass beside her, and tried his damndest not to laugh at how goofy she had looked falling on her ass.

The sound of their synchronized panting was the only thing to be heard save for some assorted screams every now and then and the faint music still playing at the house. Erik chuckled once, twice and then it grew into a full blown guffaw. He really wishes he would’ve got her fine ass tumbling on video because the mental image alone did no justice.

“I suppose almost getting shot is funny to you?” she said sarcastically, arms crossed.

“Nah,” he said and closed his eyes to see her fall over and over and over… “You busting yo ass to avoid getting shot is.”

“Well, shit, my bad I ain’t have time to change into my Air Max 95’s,” she snapped and brought her broken sandal to his face. “I hope you find my busted shoe funny too. These shits was a hunnid some dollars.”

“They so expensive why they break so easily?”

Sienna tossed the shoe to the side and rolled her eyes. “They not made for running, stupid.”

Erik glared over at her with another punchline ready, but the stream of blood dripping down her muscled calf caught his attention first. Without warning, he grabbed her to inspect it further.

“Yo, the fuck you so rough for—” she started and then saw what he was staring at. “What the fuck?”

“You cut kinda bad, girl.”

“I don’t feel shit.”

“Adrenaline something else,” he declared and squeezed her calf experimentally. “It don’t look like a gash. Don’t think you gon’ need stitches. We just gotta see if you can walk on it.”

“I’m not walking nowhere with one damn shoe,” she whined childishly and frowned at her sandal.

Erik considered this. “Aye, I got a first aid kit in the car if you don’t mind me playing doctor,” he suggested with a nonchalant shrug. “Then after that we can find your peoples.”

She seemed okay with that and nodded. Erik rose to his feet, brushed his outfit off, then held a hand out to help her up. The second she stood straight and applied full weight to her feet, she buckled at the pain that ran up the back of her leg.

“Fuck,” she hissed, immediately grasping onto Erik. He took her other arm into his to steady her and sympathetically winced for her.

“Well, shit, that answers that,” he said with finality. “Bridal or piggyback?”

“What?” she grumbled, twisting her leg around to assess the damage.

“I’mma have to carry yo clumsy ass, so bridal or piggyback?”

Sienna pulled a face when she tried to stand on her own again and shook her head at the current situation. “Erik, you can’t carry my big ass. I’ll break you.”

Erik scoffed, never one to step down from someone challenging him with saying he can’t. A second later, he had his arms under Sienna, lifting her bridal style with no hesitation while she yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck to brace herself.

“Nigga, you can’t just be lifting bitches!” she whined again. “You gon’ drop me.”

“You good, ma,” he assured her and began walking up the block to where he parked. “Rather do this than hear you complain the whole way.”

“I don’t complain.”

“Yeah, a’ight.”

She pouted. “Anybody would feel a type of way about ruining their favorite pair of sandals.”

“You damn near cut yo whole leg open and you worried about some fucking shoes,” he tutted and shook his head. “You some’ else, thickums.”

“You telling me if you ripped a pair of Jordan’s you wouldn’t be pressed?”

“I ain’t say that,” he corrected her. “If my arm was dislocated or some other shit, then nah.”

“You said it wasn’t that bad!” she exclaimed.

“I said you won’t need stitches.”

Sienna narrowed her eyes at the side of his face. “So, what, you want me to call you Dr. Stevens or something?”

Erik’s eyes averted to the side to quickly glare at her then back to the sidewalk before him. “I ain’t tell you my last name.”

“All CJ ever talks about is Mr. Stevens this and Mr. Stevens that. You his whole hero.”

Another weird thing happened in Erik’s stomach; he can’t recall ever being anyone’s hero but his own.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know how to respond so he didn’t and they go in silence for the remainder of the way to Erik’s Audi. The party was completely cleared out with the music still going and it looked like no one had called the police yet.

“You leave anything in there?” Erik asked, pointing towards the house after sitting her up on the trunk of the car.

Sienna patted her skirt pockets, feeling for her phone then shook her head when she gripped it. “Nah, I’m good,” she said and unlocked it. “Lemme text Willow and let her know I’m good.”

“A’ight, we can't stay around though. It’s only a matter of time till some colonizer get nosey and we don’t wanna be the only two niggas around when opps show up,” he said and unlocked the car.

Sienna put her phone back in her pocket. “CJ got that word from you: Colonizer,” she repeated, amused as he picked her up and put her in the passenger’s seat.

Erik rounded the car to get into the driver’s seat and had the engine roaring in seconds. “It’s not a bad word.”

“Nah, it’s not,” she said and shook her head. “Where we going?”

“Just gotta get outta here first,”  he explained, one hand on the wheel with the other resting on the middle console as he swerved out of the neighborhood. “I’mma fix that leg up, take you to yo friend’s crib, and then you gon’ follow me back on Instagram.”

“Presumptuous,” Sienna snickered and rested her head against the window. “You haven’t murdered, kidnapped, or raped me yet, so I guess you’ve earned it.”

Erik scoffed.

Sienna thought about what she said to him for a moment and tensed. “I mean, I’m not saying you would, but I don’t know you like that, you feel me?” She scrambled for an explanation. “Like, I’m not saying I feel unsafe ‘cus you Killmonger. And I’m also not saying Killmonger was out there raping bitches or no shit like that. The murder and kidnapping, _maybe_ , but, um, nah, no rape.”

Erik didn’t respond for a few minutes and just when he thought he might, he closed his mouth and continued driving. Sienna frowned over at him and then out the window at her missed opportunity thanks to her smart mouth. Insinuating someone was a rapist sure was effective in killing the mood.

Embarrassment and broken sandal aside, Sienna was enjoying tonight’s turn of events better than how she thought they’d go. Despite her nonsensical ramblings, she felt safe with Erik and it didn’t make sense. Obviously she was turned out by how forward he was and that he lifted and carried her like she weighed nothing, but safe should be a stretch.

It may have been because she knew CJ was safe with him whenever she came up to the Outreach Center, or how he took her with him when he knocked out anybody in sight to get out of the party, or the protective way he had his arms around her when they were grinding on each other.

She fidgeted with the end of her braids. “You really think I’m cute?” she asked out of nowhere.

Erik snorted as though the question was ridiculous. “You fine or whatever.”

Sienna grinned. “What does whatever mean?”

“Just mean whatever.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?”

Erik didn’t have a real answer, so he rolled his eyes back in annoyance. “Ain’t nobody gon’ kidnap you but if they did, they’d bring yo’ ass back.”

“Why?”

“You talk too much.”

“Nigga, just half an hour ago, I ain’t talk enough for you, so which is it?”

“Maybe you don’t have no nigga not ‘cus you shy but ‘cus you just be talking.”

Truth be told, he liked that Sienna talked so much. He rarely ever did, so it was nice that someone else filled the silence he never intended to.

“And you probably don’t got no girl ‘cus you mean as fuck,” she snapped back, grimacing at the side of his face. “All I did was ask a question.”

“Was a dumb-ass question, but I answered the shit nonetheless.”

“How was it a dumb-ass question?”

“If I already told you I think you cute, why you questioning it?”

“Niggas be lying.”

“I wouldn't have been all in yo’ face if I ain’t think you fine,” he told her bluntly. “And I definitely wouldn’t be entertaining this conversation if I ain’t think you cute when you annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed,” she retorted, ignoring how her stomach fluttered at being told she’s cute, and pointed a finger at him. “You just annoying.”

“You like me,” he said as a statement rather than a question.

“You a’ight,” she mumbled and sank in her seat because he was kind of right. “I seen finer niggas at that party.”

“Okay, but who car you in?”

He had a point, but she brushed it off. “I would’ve been going home with some other nigga who isn’t rude as fuck if yo’ ass wasn’t all up on me.”

“You had every opportunity to tell me get the fuck up off you but you didn’t ‘cus yo’ ass like me.”

“God, are you five?” she groaned. “How many times I gotta tell you I don’t know you, negro?”

“You could,” he said again.

After another ten minutes of silence, Erik parked in a random grocery store parking lot and hopped out the driver’s side to assist Sienna to her feet. She hissed in pain, the unapologetic sting of her injured shin shocking her into a fit of curses. She held onto Erik’s forearms as he steadied her against the passenger door, looking down at her with an inquisitive stare that she’s too agitated to notice. 

“Don’t move,” he instructed and popped the trunk. He rummaged around the assortment of guns and clothes until he found the fully equipped first aid kit and set it on the roof of the car.

Sienna’s heart raced when he lifted her again but she relaxed again when he put her on the trunk. Without saying anything, he grabbed her shin again and she instinctively jerked it back.

“Nigga, that hurts!” she exclaimed. “Why you so damn rough?”

Erik rolled his eyes and inspected the damage. The cuts had stopped bleeding, so all she seemed to need was to have them cleaned out and wrapped up.

“Hand me the first aid kit.”

She crossed her arms. “You could say please.”

“This your leg, not mine.”

Sienna frowned. “Would it kill you to just be polite?”

Erik sucked his teeth impatiently. “Lil’ girl, I’ll leave you in this parking lot, let you limp yo’ ass home, and sleep perfectly fine tonight,” he threatened, but only a small part of him meant it.

Clearly over it, Sienna reached behind her, grabbed the kit and handed it to him. “My sandal broke and my leg might have to be amputated, but your rude ass don’t care,” she grumbled under her breath. “That’s why I avoided you.”

Erik ignored her dramatics and began wiping her entire calf and shin down with an alcohol wipe. “Nobody told you to fall,” he grumbled right back. “For all that shit you talk about not knowing me, you sure act like you do. Why you avoid me?” he asked, opening another wipe to assure the dried blood is gone.

Sienna shrugged and went back to nervously twirling her braids, suddenly shy and caught off guard by his question. “You got a lot going on.”

“Do I?”

“Well, you know,” she stammered and gestured down at him squatting before her. “You’re you.”

“The fuck that mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“You don’t know me.”

“No, but I know people like you usually got a lot going on.”

“People like me,” he chuckled humorlessly, catching her drift even if she didn’t, and checked the bottom of her foot. “People like me as in ghetto?”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”

“You ain’t have to.”

“That’s not what I meant, Erik,” she insisted and dug her elbows into her knees. “I just meant, like, you know, you.”

“As in I’m a hood rat?”

Sienna shook her head vigorously. “That’s not what I meant,” she repeated.

“You don’t even know what you meant.”

Mouth agape and skin hot with embarrassment, Sienna curled in on herself and averted her eyes elsewhere. Erik applied a generous amount of Neosporin on her cuts and rubbed the cream in. Even if Erik didn’t seem offended, Sienna continued to plead her case after a couple minutes of awkward silence.

“Look,” she begun and never took her eyes off of her manicure. “I respect you ‘cus my godson really looks up to you, and he needs a strong, black male role model in his life ‘cus his bum-ass daddy isn’t around. Stupid-ass, pedophile nigga wanted to lay up with a fourteen-year-old and dipped when Willow’s mother ain’t let her get an abortion. Shit’s crazy."

Erik didn’t know all of that. He silently applied cream to the bruised side of her foot.

“And when I say you got a lot going, I was talking about the Killmonger, Prince of Wakanda type stuff, not you being ghetto, which you’re not,” she clarified and gained the courage to look at him.

“Ghetto isn’t a bad word,” he told her. “Anyone who isn’t as bougie as you isn’t ghetto either, Little Miss Los Angeles.”

She figured CJ or Willow probably told him where she was from. Either that or her slight valley accent gave it away. “I’m not bougie.”

“You was damn near about to cry about a pair of shoes.”

“So? That’s not bougie.”

“Shit, nah, that makes you a crybaby. My bad.”

Sienna fluttered her eyes shut to avoid rolling them for the umpteenth time that night. “You talk like you know me.”

“How the tables turn.”

She actually managed to snicker at that, admiring how good he looked tending to her leg. Something freaky in her wanted to put her toes in between his nice lips and tell him to suck, but she fought against it.

“I meant what I said about you being a good role model,” she huffed out and went back to looking at her nails. “All the things you did, the changes made by just doing what you did, and the events inspired by it will go down in history. Maybe they’ll put you in a textbook in a few decades or some’.  Some agree with how you went about it and others don’t given the violent means, but I think a lot would agree. Either way, you made a difference here and over there. Shit, you still are,” she added sincerely. “What you do by just showing up at the Outreach Center means a lot to them kids. It’s not the throne, but it’s something. So, if you ever feel like you failed the mission, you didn’t.”

For the first time in a long while, Erik is speechless. No one had ever told him he was doing good, only that what he was doing was good. There was a difference in his head.

It sounded genuine and heartfelt coming from Sienna.

“What about you? You agree with any of it?” he asked, digging through the first aid kit for gauze wrap and bandages.

Sienna paused before letting go of a deep breath. “I don’t believe that black bodies should’ve been a casualty to support the cause,” she told him confidently. “Seems hypocritical to try and help our people by killing our people, but I guess whatever Malcolm said, right?”

Something flipped on his insides. He wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah, you right,” he agreed, almost ashamed and rolled a tube of BioFreeze on her calf and shin in soothing circles.

“But some people don’t live to see their redemption,” she went on, surprising the both of them by tucking a lone dreadlock from in front of his face. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and no matter how long Erik stared, he couldn’t decode the expression plastered on her face.

He wrapped gauze around her leg and foot and assured the bandages were tight before getting to his own feet so they were eye level.

“Willow text you back?”

Sienna pulled out her phone to check then shook her head. “Nah,” she frowned. “I left my key to her apartment at JJ’s place but I don’t even know if they asses is even together.”

Erik put the supplies back into the first aid kit and set it next to Sienna’s thigh. “Well, shit. You stuck with me until she hit you back.”

“Knowing her she probably high as fuck right now,” she figured and her head snapped up when what he said registered. “Wait, you not gon’ leave me here?”

His eyebrow quirked up to his hairline.

“I thought you might try to get rid of me.”

Erik’s jaw tensed. “There you go assuming shit.”

“I just thought you’d be tired of me and just, I don’t know, drop me off somewhere.”

“You irritating, but I like the company. I’d truly be heartless if I let someone like you just be out here alone in the mean, ole’, ghetto streets of Oakland,” he teased and pinched her thigh. “Fine ass like you get caught up real quick.”

“Oh, so, what?” she cheered with a cheeky grin. “You boutta protect me and shit? Be my personal bodyguard on some Whitney and Kevin type shit?”

“I don’t got a choice, thickums,” he said. “You can’t even run nowhere without hurting yourself. What you tryna do?”

“I can only do but so much with one shoe and a busted leg. What can we do at two in the morning?”

Erik had a slew of answers to that question, but he didn’t think “each other” was what she wanted to hear. “How often you come up here?”

She shook her head. “Not a lot—only to visit my friends.”

“I would show you around, but—” He tapped her leg, pinched her thigh again and brought his Rolex up to his face. “All the good spots close soon. Be real witchu, all I wanted some food too.”

At the mention of eating, Sienna’s stomach grumbled aloud. “Some buffalo wings would hit right now.”

Hearts practically formed in Erik’s eyes. “You speaking my kinda language,” he uttered and somehow found himself standing between Sienna’s thighs. “Drums or flats?”

“Flats! Fuck kinda question is that?” she answered without hesitation.

“Nah, girl, fo’real?” he exclaimed and shook his head in shame. “Flats hard as hell to eat. You gotta do a bunch of tricks with the bone and shit. Drums, all you gotta do is bite. No extra shit.”

“If the flats cooked right, all you gotta do is bite and all that meat slide right off the bone,” she explained, simulating biting into a wing that she can practically taste with how hungry she is.

“I like a lot of meat on my bones,” he told her, locking her gaze with his before the crack of his palm against her thigh sends her crying out and instinctively slapping his shoulder just as hard.

“You so rough!” she whimpered and rubbed the spot he hit to reduce the sting. “I’mma go home black and blue fucking with you.”

“So, you fucking with me?”

“Feed me and we’ll see,” she demanded. “This your city, so I know you know a spot for some wings.”

“Yeah, I know yo’ ass hungry when all they got to eat in L.A is kale and tofu and shit.” He helped her hop off the trunk and immediately lifted her so not to put pressure on her leg.

“Uh, first of all,” she said and put an acrylic up at him. “That’s tourists or niggas who just move here who eat that weird shit. Anybody from Cali knows what’s good.”

“Where in L.A you even from?” he asked after putting her in the passenger seat and starting the engine. “Probably Calabasas or some shit.”

“Woodland Hills,” she corrected him. “Why Calabasas?”

“Where the fuck else would yo’ bougie ass be from?”

“Boy, fuck you.”

Erik actually guffawed at that, effortlessly swerving out of the parking lot. “You be out there with them Kardashian type bitches.”

Sienna huffed. “I don’t hang around much of anybody really. All my real good patnas are away at school same as my cousins, and my parents work a lot. The only people I really be around is my nail tech who just moved to Inglewood, and I’m debating on whether I should just make the half hour drive or just find someone new,” she wondered aloud and looked down at her nails for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. “Then there’s my hair lady who’s been doing my head since I was sixteen, but I’m pretty sure she pushes drugs and I don’t need that kinda drama.”

Erik eased up on the gas approaching a red light. “So, you ain’t got many friends around,” he concluded and she nodded.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, shit, you got a friend in me, ma.”

“Toy Story ass nigga,” she tutted and looked around at downtown Oakland. “Where we going, Erik?”

“You said you wanted wings, and I know a lil’ spot near my crib.”

Sienna’s stomach grumbled again, so she clicked a button on the radio to mask the sound in the quiet car. The car vibrated with the force of the bass of the unintelligible trap song blaring through the speakers, startling Sienna.

“That shit loud as hell, nigga, damn!” She screeched and shut the radio off.

“Didn’t nobody tell you to touch my radio,” Erik said and the light illuminated green over his nonchalant expression. She sneered because he had a point.

“I just wanna hear what you be listening to.” She turned the volume knob and pressed another button. The music came through the speakers softer this time, and she began bobbing her head to the song.

“Not too ghetto for you?” he teased with a sideways smirk.

Sienna scowled. “I never said you were ghetto.”

“Yeah, I know, I just like messing with you, Little Miss Los Angeles,” he admitted. “It’s funny seeing you get all hype.”

“Oh, so tonight’s just been a big ole’ chuckle fest for you? Shit, I must be like Katt damn Williams for how much you been laughing, huh? I don’t know about you, but it’s not every day bitches be hearing gunshots, so my first instinct was to run like Ricky from _Boyz N’ Da Hood_.”

Erik couldn’t help laugh, but she was truly cracking him up. “You goofy.”

“You think I’m playing, but I’m serious. I’m still pissed about my sandal, too.”

“You acting like _I_ broke the shit!”

“Yeah, but you not being empathetic. If you ripped a pair of Jordan’s or your chain got snatched, I’d be hella supportive and cry with you.”

“You dramatic as fuck, you know that?”

Sienna crossed her arms and turned in the passenger seat to glower at him. Erik turned a corner and tried to drive in silence before her stare began to burn the side of his face.

He kissed his teeth and grunted. “A’ight, ma, fine. I’m sorry about your shoe.”

Sienna’s lips curved into a glossy smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“You a whole lot of work.”

“That’s just another way of saying you can’t handle me.”

Erik liked that response. “You gon’ let me?”

Sienna’s cheeks grew hot. “Handle driving this car and stop being nasty." 

 

 

They drove around until Erik pulled up to a large food truck on the side of the road surrounded by inebriated and reckless twenty-somethings that just go out of a nearby club. Before exiting the car, he told her not to move or else she wanted to get shot, and she threatened to beat his ass for teasing her. The wait in line was worth it for the intoxicating aroma of freshly done buffalo wings to take over the car.

It was three o’clock, and Willow still hadn’t texted Sienna back, so Erik drove them to his apartment for the night.

Upon entering the third story apartment, Sienna couldn’t get over just how clean and minimalist the space was. It was huge and open, decorated sparingly with what she assumed were Wakandan artifacts on the eggshell colored walls, black furniture with gold and grey accented rugs, vases, and other decor.

It was nice, but unlike anything she’d expect of a prince of the richest and most technologically advanced country on earth.

Erik set the takeout bag on the kitchen bar wall as she limped around the living room with a look of wonder, as if she were a kid in a candy store. He removed his jacket and slung it over a dining room chair, watching her closely when she got close to one of the artifacts.

“You decorate your place yourself?” she asked with her back turned to him, intrigued by a teal face mask with elongated horns.

“I had a lil’ help,” he answered shortly because it was easier than telling her some pieces were stolen. He kept watching her from his spot behind the bar wall, elbows resting in the counter.

This wasn’t anything how he’d thought his night would turn out, but he wasn’t going to complain. Sienna’s eccentric exterior looked good against the minimalist execution of the apartment.

“Well, I can confidently say you have the nicest spot out of any nigga I’ve ever been around,” she concluded and waddled her way over to the kitchen just for the sake of being near him.

Erik nodded in thanks and to avoid crumbling under the the way her large, doe eyes regarded him, he walked past her towards his bedroom. He changed down to just sweatpants and a hoodie, rummaged around in his dresser and tossed a grey scoop-neck t-shirt and black joggers her way.

“Here.”

She caught the clothing and immediately checked the sizes. “I’m not gonna fit these,” she told him and held them back out to him. “I’m fine with what I got on.”

“You ain’t the first fluffy chick I done had over here.” Erik washed his hands at the kitchen sink. “If they can fit the men’s section of Target, so can you.”

For some reason, she was thrown off by that, but she didn’t let it show on her face. “How nice of you to pass along the hand-me-downs of your past hoes,” she snickered.

Erik turned the faucet off and instead of grabbing a paper towel, he flicked his wet hands in Sienna’s face, making her jump.

“Boy—” she began, hand already in the air to hit his shoulder.

“You gotta wash yo’ face anyway,” he told her, further throwing her off. He caught her raised hand to lead her to the hallway bathroom which was decorated just as nicely as the rest of the apartment.

He crouched down into the sink cabinet and pulled out a plastic bin of facial wipes, exfoliants, moisturizers, and face washes all of various brands.

“Oh, so you got _bitches_ bitches,” she noted. “Clothes and shit to wash my face with. I figured you’d be a hoe, but I never thought you’d be an _accommodating_ hoe.”

He smirked and placed the bin on the counter. “I’m too grown to not accommodate.”

“Bet you ain’t got a bonnet.”

“Shit, you might’ve got me there, thickums,” Erik tsk’d. “I usually send girls home with one.”

“Looks like you’re the perfect one stop shop.” Sienna grabbed a bag of wipes and ran one across her face. “If you ever need food, dick, and a good face wash, just stop by Erik Steven’s crib.”

“Yeah, a’ight, when yo’ lil’ smartass done, come see me in the living room.”  

Erik split the wings by drums and flats, putting each in different areas of the takeout box. He already had the movie he was watching earlier that week playing when Sienna exited the bathroom barefaced with just her falsies and rocking his gear.

She placed her red outfit on the coffee table and plopped down right next to him on the couch. “What we watching?” she asked then attacked the first flat wing she saw.

“ _Seven_ ,” he answered and bit into a drum.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

“Girl, this a classic.”

“What’s it about?” Sienna put the clean bone back in the box and picked another wing up.

“Dude goes around killing people based on the seven deadly sins and shit,” he explained and tossed an empty bone.

She grimaced. “You would like some gruesome shit like that.”

“You probably like boring-ass romantic comedies.”

Sienna chomped on the wing and ripped the meat clean off the bone, never breaking eye contact with him as though to test him. “My favorite movie is _Bring it On_.”

“Of course it is.”

“Uh uh,” she defended and wagged an acrylic near his face. “Don’t do my movie like that. It’s not a romantic comedy and it touches on racism and cultural appropriation—you might like it.”

Erik grunted, unimpressed as he cleaned another wing, eyes trained in on the movie.  

“What’s your favorite movie?” she asked.

He didn’t even have to think about it. “ _Ocean’s Eleven_.”

That surprised her. “Really? Not _New Jack City_ ? Wait, nah, I was thinking it might be _Juice_.”

He side eyed her, but she appeared unfazed. “ ‘Cus I’m ghetto?”

She put her hands up in mock-surrender. “You judge me, I judge you,” she reasoned.

She had a point. “A’ight, fine,” he said. “No more judging.”

“You'll find something to get annoyed about, but whatever you say.”

They ate and watched the movie in comfortable silence, only ever talking when Sienna had a question or Erik recited lines along with the characters. When the wings were gone and their stomachs were full, Sienna unintentionally drifted towards the climax of the film, her head ending up on Erik’s shoulder then his chest.

He watched her sleep for a minute, taking in the softness of her features and entertaining way her mouth twitch as she snored. Nothing compelled him to remove a braid out of her face to get a better look, but he did it anyway.

“Thickums,” he called, but she didn’t stir.

Careful not to wake her, he stood, gathered her up bridal style, and headed for his bedroom. Her snoring only seemed to get louder when he placed her on the side of the mattress he didn’t sleep on. He continued watching her, mildly fascinated how she rolled onto her stomach and clung to a random pillow as if her life depended on it.

He shut the door behind him on his way back to the living room to retire on the couch.

  


“Erik… _Erik…_ ” Sienna whispered into the dark of the apartment.

Erik had been fading in and out of sleep for the past ninety minutes considering he wasn’t used to sleeping on the couch. His eyes popped open in alarm then shut again.

“Erik,” she called again, but he didn’t answer. He was dead tired and needed the sleep, and judging by the urgent tone in Sienna’s voice, she was either in serious trouble or was on straight bullshit.

“Erik, c’mon, wake up,” she pleaded and shook his shoulder gently.

“I’m up,” he growled reluctantly, keeping his eyes closed. “What you want?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Just as he thought. _Straight bullshit._

“The fuck that gotta do with me?”

“E, don’t be all like that.” He could practically hear her pout. “I been tossing and turning for a whole hour, and I wanna sleep.”

“So, fuck what I’m tryna do,” he muttered and peered an eye open to look up at her stranding right above him as if she were a mourner at his open casket.

She whined with her plump bottom lip jutted out. “I can’t sleep without my white noise machine, humidifier, and body pillow.”

Erik shuts his eyes again, adjusting himself to get comfortable on his side. “Unless you want a nursery rhyme or lullaby, you short, ma.”

Sienna obviously didn’t like that answer and shook his shoulder again. “I can’t sleep in new places without my stuff. Come to bed with me.”

Both of Erik’s eyes opened now.

As irritating as she was being, she looked downright adorable standing before him like he had all the answers, playing with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. She was very hard to say no to.

“You sure?” he asked.

She nodded quickly and already began limping back to the bedroom. Erik had pretty much never been invited to bed with a woman this way, so the suggestion threw him for a loop.

Sienna was already on the bed, appearing like an angel sitting up among the large, fluffy, and white cloud-like comforter, following Erik’s every move. It was the first time he had no idea what the fuck to do with a woman, but something told him he didn’t have to do much.

He kneeled into the bed and crawled onto his side while she sat right in the middle, eyes trained on him like he’d disappear if she blinked. He placed his favorite pillow under his arm and met her stare.

Without saying a word, they silently communicated how this was going to go with just a few blinks and ticks of the head. Sienna cautiously slid over to his side, moving slowing so he had a chance to change his mind. Instead of hesitating like she thought he would, he spread his arms out and she curled into his embrace with her back against his chest. His other arm met the one she laid on and he encased her close to him just as he had at the party. Their legs intertwined beneath the covers.

She laid her hand above his, idly scratching the skin of his knuckles while he tucked his nose into her neck. He perfectly replicated the weighted body pillow she had at home, but this somehow was better.

“I knew yo’ prissy ass liked me,” he mumbled into her skin.

“Shutcho rough ass up, and go to sleep,” she shot back with a small grin because he was right.

Erik awoke about two hours later at eight on his back with Sienna’s head resting within the crevice of his armpit while her body was spread eagle across the rest of the bed safe for one hand that stayed intertwined with his.

They fit so right.

The insistent ring of Sienna’s phone from the other room was what woke him up, but he was too comfortable to go get it for her.

“Sienna,” he whispered and tugged lightly on one of her braids. Her face scrunched up, but she didn’t awake immediately.

He gently nudged her a few times before her eyes opened and lethargically focused in on him looking down at her. She was still half sleep and trying to find something familiar in her surroundings, pure content confusion written all over her face when she scooted closer to his body, flung her legs on either side of his waist, hooked her arms around his neck and lay her face upon his chest.

As unused to this level of intimacy as he was, he had absolutely not oppositions to this position. Waking her was the right thing to do, but Erik didn’t want to bring himself to do it because he hadn’t been this comfortable with someone in a very long time. On top of that, it blew his mind that just a day ago, she completely ignored him.

“Sienna, you gotta—,” he started again, but she cut him off with an affectionate, gentle, and very shy peck to his cheek and then a long, playful flick of her tongue against the lobe of his ear.

“I’mma soften you right up,” she slurred tiredly and within seconds was snoring again.

He had no idea what that meant at the time. He did know she felt good on top of him, so he didn’t try and wake her again, ringing phone be damned.

Erik woke up a couple hours later to his head laid upon the jogger clad surface of Sienna’s thigh and his arm looped around her waist. She was sat straight up, phone held up to her face scrolling and twiddling one of his locks in her fingers.

“What time is it?” he mumbled into her skin.

“Almost eleven,” she answered through a yawn. “Willow spent the night at JJ’s. She picking me up in a minute.”

He hummed in affirmation and involuntary squeezed tighter around her. “You soft as hell." 

“So are you.” Her hand found its way to massaging with the shell of his ear.

Willow texted Sienna when she arrived and both Erik and Sienna were reluctant to move on account of how comfortable they were wrapped around each other.

 

 

With her clothes gathered and one sandal in her hand, she turned to Erik to say thank you and goodbye, but he surprised her with lifting her right off her feet just as he had been all night.

“My foot don’t really hurt like that anymore,” she insisted, but Erik just shrugged it off as he carried her to the hallway, in the elevator, and through the nearly empty lobby.

Willow’s hooptie was parked right at the curb in front of the apartment building, waiting as Erik set Sienna to her feet on the sidewalk. They exchanged a secret look that said more than words could, and a small part of Erik was clueless as to what she wanted him to do.

He’d _never_ walked anyone out of his apartment before, especially a female, let alone a female he hadn’t slept with. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t say goodbye often.

“Thanks for playing doctor,” she said suggestively with a knowing smirk down at her foot, only then noticing she still had his clothes on. “Shit, I forgot to change.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved it off. “Just give ‘em back when you come back up here to see me.”

“Who said I was doing all that?”

“You said you only come to Oakland to see your friends,” he reminded her and took a step forward to tower her just to see how her cheeks flushed. “We friends now, baby girl.”

It was very hard to fight that logic, so she didn’t. “Okay,” she squeaked in agreement and fluttered her lashes up at him. “Thank you, Erik.”

“It wasn’t nothing.”

Sienna stood there for a few seconds longer than needed as if she were waiting for him to say something else. He took that chance to smack a loud kiss to her cheek and a slap to the side of her thigh. She pretended to go to swipe him, but settled for pushing him.

“Aggressive ass,” she uttered under her breath on the way to Willow’s car. Before she entered the vehicle, she turned to wave happily with every tooth on display in a wide, cheesy smile. “Bye, Mr. Stevens!” she exclaimed.

Erik waved back, feeling like an absolute cornball as he did. He waited until the car was out of sight before heading back into his apartment to sleep the rest of his Sunday away.

When he officially awoke at two in the afternoon, he checked his phone and among the swarm of notifications he received, one in particular caught his attention.

_siennagrams accepted your follow request._

_siennagrams followed you._

He didn’t particularly care how thirsty he looked liking all of her pictures within ten minutes.

After tonight, he came to the conclusion that she was everything and nothing like he’d expected.


End file.
